


Of Hearts & Hexes

by Newtclear



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtclear/pseuds/Newtclear
Summary: As the school semester moves forward, so too do the young students at Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Will this young love become a tale as old as time, or will it be little more than a forgotten tragedy?Only time will tell. (Tags will be updated as new chapters are released.)
Relationships: Boscha & Willow Park, Boscha/Willow Park
Comments: 34
Kudos: 225





	1. Introduction to Lovecraft

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written fanfiction in a while and certainly haven't written it for The Owl House before. If anything seems off character-wise, please let me know!

Standing in one of the many hallways of Hexside, Willow and her friends look upon her locker with bated breath. Luz has her hands clasped together as she bounces in place while Gus has his flags in hand, ready to wave. There is plenty of excitement between the two of them, but beneath her calm exterior Willow can feel her palms getting sweaty. This was starting to become her favorite part of her day. That is because, in the last three days, Willow has found a letter from another student at the school inside her locker. Letters that were not signed and contained considerably affectionate remarks. Most commonly known as a love letter. 

“Oh I can’t wait, hurry and open your locker already. I _need_ to see if they left you another one.” Luz says.

“Wow,” Gus quips “You’re more excited about this than Willow.”

“How could I not be? This is just like all those romance novels I read back home,” Luz gestures towards Willow in a flowery manner, a saccharine smile on her face “A beautiful yet shy young girl! A mysterious admirer from afar! Oh, I am just _so_ jealous! I wish I had a secret admirer.”

“Oh, thank you, Luz.” Willow’s cheeks flush softly while she opens the locker before retrieving several schoolbooks. 

Amongst the stack of books, nestled between the pages, is a small pink slip of paper that has been neatly folded and sealed with a star-shaped sticker. Upon noticing the pink slip, a nervous smile creeps its way onto Willow’s face, all while Luz is barely able to contain her excitement. Carefully, Willow plucks the pink slip out of the pages, peels off the sticker, and proceeds to unfold it. Sure enough, it is another letter from this unknown admirer.

After noticing Willow’s cheeks flush a bright red, Gus quickly raises his hands as high as can be and enthusiastically waves his flags back and forth. At the same time, Luz hops in place and claps her hands.  
  
“What’s it say? What’s it say?” Luz asks.

“It looks like a poem,” Willow pauses to take a deep breath and then reads the letter aloud. 

> **“What would I do just to see a smile on your face?**
> 
> **I would climb to the highest peak of the Boiling Isle.**
> 
> **Look upon the stars above, stars that do not shine near as bright as you.**
> 
> **Let out a declaration of love so loud, only the deaf could not hear it.**
> 
> **Only then do I feel you would understand,**
> 
> **What you mean to me, my dearest love.”**

Once Willow finishes reading the letter, she becomes a flustered, giggling mess as her cheeks become a rosy shade of red.

“ _Wow_. That was really sappy, but I’m glad you liked it,” Gus says with a smile.

“Mhm, I wish I could write back to them," Willow replies.

“Yeah, it’s too bad we don’t know who this admirer is but I guess that’s why they’re called _secret_ admirers.”

Luz, who has just spent the last minute or so imagining the reading of this love letter as though it were a soliloquy being performed in a stage play, snaps back to reality and loudly exclaims, “ _That’s it!_ ”

“What?” Gus and Willow ask in unison.

“We’ll do some good old-fashioned detective work and find out who your secret admirer is. It’ll be just like 'Of Hearts & Hexes',” Luz explains.

“I don’t know, Luz. The last time we tried something from one of your books, we almost wound up getting digested by Hooty.” Gus protests.

“Don’t worry so much, we can--” The sound of the school bell ringing interrupts Luz, who panics and rushes off to her first class. “continue this conversation during lunch!”

“Fine by me,” Gus says, sprinting down the hall.

“Me too,” Willow adds, walking away from her locker as quickly as possible.

“Alright, see you then, detectives!” Luz winks and snaps her fingers, pointing at Gus and Willow while running backward, hitting a wall, and nearly falling to the floor.

Meanwhile, just a few lockers down, a fellow student watches the three of them part ways from around the corner. This student, wearing a cloak to hide their appearance, looks fondly upon Willow and her friends. Clutching their books close to their chest, they hurry off to the first class of the day, a small smile upon their face.

* * *

When the first lunch period finally rolls around, the cafeteria is bustling with hungry students coming and going every which way. As students pile through the lunch line and make idle chit-chat, they eventually break off into groups, then take seats amongst friends. It isn’t long before the cafeteria no longer rings with the sound of footsteps, but instead the sound of conversation. 

Towards the front corner of the cafeteria, at one of the many white cafeteria tables, Willow and Gus sit across from one another. Setting down their trays, they immediately strike up a casual dialogue and begin to pick at their lunch. As they eat, Willow notices Amity wandering the cafeteria with a full lunch tray and wandering eyes. 

“Hey Amity, want to join us for lunch?” Willow waves toward Amity, trying to get her attention.

“Oh, sure. It has been pretty awkward eating lunch with my, uh, _other_ friends the last few days.” Amity replies.

“You won't have to worry about that here," Gus says "I can’t think of a single awkward thing about having lunch with us.”

As if on cue, Luz steps up to the lunch table with a covered lunch tray in her hands and an excited expression on her face. She sets down her tray, then takes a seat across from Amity. “Hey, everybody.”

“Hey, Luz.” “Hi, Luz.” Gus and Willow say.

“Oh, hey there, Luz,” Amity says as her cheeks tinge a soft pink.

“So... are you guys ready to do a little detective work?” Luz asks, casually pushing her lunch tray aside and pulling a pencil and paper out from her pocket.

“Don’t you want to eat first?” says Gus.

“Nope. I need answers, not food.” Luz quips, ignoring the grumble of her stomach. She holds the pencil firm and tries to write on the paper, but can't bring herself to do so. Her stomach grumbles once more. Unable to ignore it, she reaches over to her tray, grabbing a handful of chips off it, and then shoveling them into her mouth. “Okay, answers, _and_ food.”

“Answers? Detective work?” Amity cocks an eyebrow upwards, “What are you up to?”

“We’re trying to figure out the identity of my secret admirer. They’ve left a love letter in my locker the last three days, all there before the first period, see for yourself.” Willow explains as she reaches over the table to pass the most recent letter to Amity. As she begins to read over the letter, Luz, Willow, and Gus continue the discussion.

“So, where do we start?” Gus asks.

Luz wipes her hands on her school uniform, then picks the pencil back up before repositioning the paper. “First and foremost, we need to make a list of everything we know about your secret admirer, their love letters, and how they deliver ‘em. Once we get that sorted out, we can develop a character profile that could give us a lead on who they really are.”

“Well, whoever they are, their handwriting is certainly nice. Is that anything?” Willow says.

“Good penmanship, an attractive quality in any potential date.” Luz writes it down on the sheet of paper, “What else do we know?”

“All of the letters have been written in black ink on pink paper. So that means…” Gus trails off, furrowing his brow and scratching his chin.

“Color coordination! Whoever this admirer is, they _must_ be stylish.” Luz adds it to the list. “Anything else?”

While Gus and Willow quietly contemplate what else they know, Amity discreetly pockets the letter she was reading, then clears her throat. As everyone looks her way, she speaks up. “Well, if the letters are always there before the first period, then they’re probably sneaking them into your locker after school the day prior.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Gus says, “if they have an afterschool club or something, then they already have the perfect alibi too!” 

Willow nods in agreement, as does Amity. 

Luz, however, stops writing and then confidently exclaims,“ You’re a _genius_ , Amity!” 

“I… am? Of course, I am!” Amity stammers out, a sheepish and unsure grin on her face. “How am I a... genius, exactly?”

“Every day this week, there’s been a letter in Willow’s locker waiting for her. I bet this secret admirer will be delivering another letter after school _today_ ,” Luz explains, flipping over the paper and drawing a crude diagram on it, “So, if we stick around once school lets out and keep an eye on Willow’s locker, we can catch this secret admirer red-handed!”

“Sounds like one heck of a plan,” Gus says “count me in!”

“I’m in too,” Willow says.

“Sorry, but you can count me out,” Amity looks away, squeezing her skirt between her fingers. “I have… a lot to work on for Abominations Class, so I’ll be busy all day.”

“Oh, that's okay. I’m sure the three of us can handle this,” Luz says, folding up the paper before stowing it away.

While Amity’s friends spend the rest of the lunch period engrossed in pleasant, casual conversation, she is hesitant to participate. Instead, she finishes her lunch quickly and bids them farewell, heading out through the cafeteria doors. After another fifteen minutes pass, the bell rings, and Gus, Willow, and Luz leave the cafeteria together before eventually splitting up to head to their individual classes.

* * *

Meeting up just outside the Plants classroom, Gus and Luz begin going over the plan while waiting for Willow’s class to let out. The last has already rung, but the Plants class is having a few students stay late to clean up a particularly nasty spill of fertilizer. Nearly ten minutes pass before Willow is free to leave the classroom and groups together with her friends, who explain their plan to her as quickly as possible.

“So, what do you think?” Luz asks.

“Sounds good to me, let's do this,” Willow replies.

Heading off at a brisk pace, the three of them make their way to Willow's locker and get into position. First, Gus creates several illusory copies of himself and positions them throughout the hall; one around the corner, one inside a trashcan, and one sitting on top of a ceiling light. At the same time. Luz positions herself inside a nearby closet, leaving the door slightly ajar, and gets her phone out. Once the camera app is open, she gives a thumbs up to Gus and Willow. With everyone ready, Willow goes to her locker and puts her books away, then heads down the hall, making her way for the school's entrance.

As the minutes pass by, the hallways clear out; a majority of students leaving for home or heading to their afterschool clubs. Meanwhile, Luz and Gus remain vigilant. As each student passes by Willow’s locker, Luz keeps her cellphone’s camera aimed at them. Yet no matter how many students pass by, none of them seem to go near Willow’s locker.

After nearly half an hour passes, when the halls are all but clear, there’s a breakthrough. A student, wearing a cloak, steps into view with their hands in their pockets. Luz gets her phone ready, focusing on the cloaked figure. This cloaked student approaches Willow’s locker, manages to get it open, then pulls something out of their pocket. From what the Gussitting atop the ceiling light can tell, it looks to a slip of paper; small, pink, and sealed with a star-shaped sticker.

The illusory Gus makes a series of quick hand gestures towards the real Gus. “That’s the admirer, take the shot!” the real Gus shouts, pointing his finger at the cloaked student, “Take the shot!”

“Say ‘cheese’!” Luz leaps out of the closet, sporting a smug look as she snaps a picture of the cloaked admirer.

The cloaked student turns to face the source of the sudden noise, then gasps sharply upon seeing the flash of light coming from the phone. Panicking, the cloaked student pulls their hood over their face, shoves the note back into their pocket, and then flees the scene as quickly as they can. Sprinting out the school's entrance, they whip past Willow, who stares with cheeks flushed a soft pink. At that moment, Willow’s heart and mind are racing with a burning curiosity.

Meanwhile, back inside the school, Gus looks to Luz with furrowed brows and asks, “Isn't this the part where we chase after them or something?”

“No need,” Luz explains, turning her phone over to Gus. The photo on-screen displays the cloaked admirer and, while no facial features are discernable beneath the shade of their hood, the yellow sleeves of their school uniform are visible; meaning whoever they are, they're a part of the Potions Track. “We got _exactly_ what we needed." 


	2. What Friends are For

Having just left the cafeteria, Amity makes her way through the halls of Hexside with a strong sense of duty and purpose. While Amity’s friends are grasping at straws to uncover the identity of Willow’s secret admirer, Amity has figured it out when she saw the way the I's are dotted. She has seen that handwriting plenty of times, there isn’t any doubt in her mind that the love letter was written by Boscha. That realization made Amity's skin crawl. 

“I made a promise to you, Willow,” Amity mutters to herself, “I am _not_ going to let her hurt you.”

After rounding a corner, and reaching the hallway where the Potions Classroom is located, Amity heads toward the door and knocks repeatedly. Before the teacher answers the door, Amity concocts the perfect lie; a Grudgby match is happening later this month. When the Potions teacher answers the door, they give Amity a polite greeting, complete with a smile. While deception is not something Amity would consider one of her strengths, she is willing to pull out all the stops if it means protecting her friends. 

“There’s some urgent news regarding the Hexside Banshees,” Amity takes a deep breath to calm her rattling nerves, then continues “Could you please excuse Boscha? They need her.” 

“Why certainly!” the teacher says.

Boscha picks her sports jacket off the back of her chair, then walks over to Amity. The two of them exchange a tense glance before heading out there door and down the hall. As they draw closer to the gymnasium, neither one says a word, as Amity is lost in thought trying to figure out exactly what to say. All the while, Boscha is deep in thought as well, curious as to what the issue may be and hesitant to speak up lest she jinxes it and makes things worse. It takes time for Amity to find the words, but once the two of them are just outside the gymnasium, she finally breaks the silence.

“There isn’t anything going on with the Grudgby team, I just needed to talk to you.”

“Figures,” Boscha sighs, slipping on her jacket before crossing her arms. “So, what do you want, Amity?”

"I want to know what _this_ is.” Amity pulls a folded, pink letter out from her pocket. As she unfolds it, Boscha's cheeks and ears begin to flush a bright red. 

For a moment, all Boscha can do is stare blankly at the love letter. She unfolds her arms, then shoves her hands in her jacket's pockets and looks away. "I… I have no idea what that is."

"Don't play dumb, Boscha," Amity nearly shouts, her blood boiling. "I _know_ this is your handwriting, so don’t bother with your lame excuses. If this is some sort of cruel, heartless prank or something, I want you to put an end to it right now. _Or else_.”

There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence between the two of them, a palpable, hostile tension.

“Or _what?_ You’ll sic one of your abominations on me?" Boscha snaps back at Amity, though her glare does little to draw attention away from her flushed cheeks "Did you even consider that… that it isn’t a prank? That I actually like her?”

Amity pauses for a moment, taken by surprise. “Then…” she refuses to let that deter her and continues “Then I want you to forget this crush and leave Willow alone, she deserves better than you,” To emphasize her point, Amity uses a spell to set the letter ablaze and drops it to the floor. 

Boscha watches, wordlessly, as the love letter written after hours of struggling to put her feelings to paper becomes nothing more than a scorch mark upon the tile floor. There’s a twinge of pain in Boscha’s chest, tears begin to well up in the corner of her eyes, but she puts on a calm expression and speaks in a flat tone, “Okay, fine, whatever…”

“I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Amity says, with all the venom of a cobra dripping from her words. She then turns and walks away, “See you around, Boscha.”

“Yeah. See you around, Amity…” Boscha takes a step backward, leaning against the row of lockers. 

A heavy, painful sigh escapes Boscha’s lips as she takes one hand out of her pocket, clenches it into a fist, and then she bites her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Despite being alone in the hallway, Boscha feels more vulnerable and exposed than she ever has before. It was only this morning that the only people who knew about her crush were her closest friends, but now Amity knew. Amity isn't the type to gossip as far as Boscha knows, but in recent days Boscha has come to realize just how little they know each other. And so, a wave of fear washes over her. The fear of her secret getting out. The fear of Willow finding out. The fear of Willow’s inevitable rejection. It's all too much for Boscha to bear, and for the first time in years, she breaks down crying. As the tears trickle down her cheeks, she rushes to wipe them away.

“... _Crap_.” Boscha mutters softly, straining her voice. “I can’t… I _can’t_ let anyone else see me like this.”

After waiting a minute for the tears to stop, Boscha sprints to the nearest bathroom as fast as possible. Once inside, she goes to the sink, gets the water running, and splashes cold water onto her face. Between the refreshing chill and several deep breaths, Boscha calms down. There was still a painful weight in her chest and fears lingering in the back of her mind, but she refuses to let them keep her from getting through the day. 

Staring at her reflection, Boscha recites a mantra she has been working to improve, “You are talented. You are a star. You won’t be liked, so long as you are feared. Most important of all, you need to be better!” 

Right after she finishes this self-affirmation, the school bell rings. Feeling better, but still uneasy, Boscha steps out of the bathroom then heads to her next class.


	3. Leave No Stone Unturned

An incandescent sunset washes over the Boiling Isle, and as the sky turns a muted violet with hints of red, many residents of the isle are already asleep. Among the residents that choose to stay up, however, is Luz. Who now finds herself at an impasse in regards to the mysterious identity of Willow’s secret admirer despite her best efforts. There Luz stands, inside the attic of the Owl House, pacing back and forth as she reviews the evidence. Every wall is covered with a menagerie of pictures of students from the potions track at Hexside; each one has a string that connects it to the picture Luz took of the secret admirer earlier that day. After hours of crossing out the pictures of students that didn’t fit due to their skin tone, extra digits, or appendages, Luz narrows the list to only five potential candidates. All that progress is lost, however, when a realization strikes her.

“Wait, I _just_ remembered illusion magic is a thing.” Luz punctuates this remark with a swift smack of a palm against her forehead, knocking herself flat onto her back with a loud thud.

Opening the door to the attic, Eda steps into the room. “What's all this?” she examines the photograph of the cloaked student and the numerous red strings, “Are you plotting a murder? I can't say I approve but I'm glad to see you trying new things."

"What? No. I'm trying to solve the mystery of Willow's secret admirer." Luz explains while getting up off the floor and brushing herself off.

"And how's that working out so far?"

“I thought I was making progress, but...” Luz sighs, hanging her head low “detective work is a _lot_ harder when magic is involved.”

“Well… I could make something that could help, but I would hate to ruin the integrity of your investigation,” Eda says slyly, summoning her staff into her hand with just a flick of her wrist.

Luz glances at Eda, then over to the wall of photographs and string, then back to Eda, and so on, until she clenches her fists and exclaims, “No, no. It’s fine. Forget integrity, I want results!”

“That’s my girl, integrity is for suckers,” Eda smirks, “Now hand over all the evidence you’ve got.”

In a hurry, Luz pulls down the photograph from the wall, picks the love letters up off the table, then places them into Eda's open hand. A satisfied smile on her face, Eda looks over the evidence and gives a nod. “Yeah, that’ll do. Now just give me an hour or two, mama has some cooking to do.” Eda says, heading out of the room with a smug saunter.

“What are you going to make with all this?” Luz asks, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow.

“Something that’ll crack this little case of yours _wide open_.”

* * *

The following day, as the afternoon approaches, Luz is sitting at a lunch table in Hexside’s cafeteria along with her friends Gus, Willow, and Amity. The four of them exchange pleasantries and start eating, though it isn't long before Luz interrupts everything to show off a magical item that Eda has made for her. Upon Luz's wrist is a curious-looking bracelet with golden trim and a brown band. As she goes into detail about the long process that went into crafting the curious, shimmering piece of jewelry, her friends lean in to take a closer look. All three of them are impressed, magic or not, it's a very stylish accessory.

“Wow,” Gus says, taking a sip of his apple blood before asking “What is it?” 

“Eda says it’s called a scrying stone,” Luz explains, unfurling the bracelet and showing off the immaculate, bead-like gemstone adorning the bracelet. Within is a spiral of violet and green smoke that remains still. “According to her, it’ll start to glow when it gets closer to whoever it is we’re looking for.”

“That’s amazing,” Willow says, "but what did she use to make it?"

“Well, she used a bit of stardust, some griffon feathers, and, uh, all of the evidence we had,” Luz turns away from everyone at the table, grimacing.

“So... the letters?” Gus asks hesitantly, glancing over to Willow, who has an anxious look on her face.

“Gone,” Luz says, an apologetic tone to her voice “I’m _so_ sorry, Willow, but--”

“It’s okay,” Willow interrupts, still looking rather upset despite the smile “the letters were nice, but knowing who my admirer is will be even nicer.”

“I won’t let you down, Willow, I promise,” Luz says with the utmost confidence, “By the end of the day, we’ll know who your secret admirer is.”

“About that…” Amity interjects, a look of concern on her face. “Are you sure you want to know who your secret admirer is? What if it’s someone _like_ …” Amity pauses for a moment, becoming tense as her friends stare at her with befuddlement. “...like Barcus?”

Everyone at the table immediately squicks at the thought, even Amity. Gus and Luz simply stare at Amity, an indescribable expression of utter confusion and disgust upon their faces. Willow, however, seems to be mulling the idea in her head for a moment. On the one hand, she is fond of dogs. On the other hand, she is not _that fond_ of dogs. Snapping back to reality, Willow shakes her head and almost looks pale. With everyone at the table somewhat uncomfortable, Amity tries to backpedal to ease everyone's nerves.

“Okay, okay,” Amity gives an uneasy chuckle, “Definitely not Barcus, but what if it's someone even worse?”

“I’m not sure it could get worse.” Gus quips, still cringing.

“Yeah, I’m going to agree with Gus on this. Whoever it is, they can’t possibly be a worse fit for Willow than…” Luz squicks once again, “ _Barcus_.”

“I get it,” Amity groans, sighing heavily before planting her forehead against the lunch table, embarrassment tinging her cheeks a soft pink, “I’m just… worried, that’s all. We don’t know who this admirer is. What if she--” In an instant, Amity freezes up and falls silent.

“... _She_?” Willow asks.

It feels as though all eyes at the table are now on Amity, whose expression quickly shifts into one of guilt and anxiety. To her credit, Amity does her best to avoid letting her friends staring get to her. Yet she can feel the intensity of their gazes. What’s more, she realizes that the longer she remains silent, the more suspicious this little slip of the tongue becomes. Yet as Amity sits up straight and opens her mouth to speak before she has a chance to explain, Luz speaks up.

“You really shouldn’t assume the secret admirer’s gender, Amity. It could be anyone on the potions track.”

Amity lets out a heavy sigh of relief, then smiles. “You’re right, my apologies. I’m just worried that whoever they are, they might not be right for Willow.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Willow admits, “But I want to find out. Never knowing would be a lot worse than it being someone I didn’t like.”

Luz and Gus nod in agreement while Amity sheepishly agrees, still somewhat embarrassed. After a bit of casual conversation and joking remarks, the bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch period. The four of them exit the cafeteria and head to class; Gus makes his way to the Illusions class, Willow heads over to the Plants classroom, Amity walks to the Abominations class, and Luz excitedly hurries to the Potions classroom. The door to the Potions classroom is already open, allowing students to come in and take a seat before the period starts. With almost a third of the students already in the classroom, Luz begins her investigation.

Slowly, carefully, and stealthily, Luz makes her way across the classroom while focusing intently on the scrying stone bracelet upon her wrist. With each student Luz passes by, she holds her wrist as close to them as possible, with little regard for one’s personal space. Yet none of the students currently present in the classroom elicit a response of any kind from the scrying stone. 

“No big deal,” Luz assures herself, taking a seat towards the back of the classroom. “There’s still plenty of other students it could be.”

Over the next few minutes, other students on the potions track enter the classroom. Luz outstretches her arm towards every last one, but none of them cause the scrying stone to react. With only a minute left before the class starts, a worrisome thought crosses Luz’s mind. What if the secret admirer really had used illusory magic to disguise themself? If that were the case, would they be in the illusions track? Or perhaps another track and merely had a friend in the illusions track help? An endless stream of possibilities flood Luz's mind and she can feel herself panic internally. In an attempt to reassure herself, Luz mutters empty platitudes and aimless mantras under her breath, but the dull color of the scrying stone does little to dissuade calm her. As the teacher enters the classroom, the bell rings to signal the start of the class period. 

Right as Luz is about to resign herself to having been wrong, the scrying stone begins to give off a faint warmth and soft glow. Luz’s eyes widen as she glances upwards, searching for whoever the stone is reacting to. Coming into the classroom, tardy by only a few seconds, is the captain of the Hexside Banshees; Boscha. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Boscha says, grinning smugly, “I was busy signing a few autographs for the freshmen.”

“No worries, Boscha. Please, take your seat. We have quite an exciting lesson plan for today.” The teacher replies, pointing Boscha towards her desk in the back of the classroom. 

As Boscha walks past Luz, the scrying stone shines far brighter than before and exudes a considerable heat. Confident in Eda’s magic, despite doubting what she’s seeing, Luz's confidence is restored. She then ponders the best way to broach the subject with Boscha. It isn’t unheard of, in her experience at least, for a bully to have a crush on the person they bully. Fortunately, the teacher’s lesson plan offers an excellent opportunity for Luz to solve this case; it’s a group project in which the students will be working in pairs. 

“Excuse me!" Luz raises her hand as high as it will go, "Is it alright if I’m Boscha’s partner for this assignment?” 

“Why certainly, I would be surprised if you found opposition for such an… _enthusiastic_ partner.” the teacher says with a hint of sarcasm, “Though I must ask that you refrain from any future outbursts.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” 

Luz gets up from her seat and then sits beside Boscha. There is still a fair bit of tension between them, as they have barely interacted since the Grudgby match earlier in the school year. Trying to break the tension, Luz attempts to make small talk as the teacher speaks, “So… Boscha. Is there anyone at school you think is, uh, cute?” 

“Yes, actually,” Boscha smiles, glancing over to Luz while her third eye remains fixated on the board at the front of the class, “ _Me_.”

Luz chortles at the remark, finding it too amusing to be frustrating. Before she gets the chance to make another attempt at broaching the subject, the teacher clears his throat and begins explaining today’s assignment. Boscha wastes no time in writing down the instructions as quickly as she can while all Luz can do is watch intently. While this handwriting isn’t quite as fanciful as the writing present on the love letters, the similarities are undeniable. Before Luz has the chance to bask in her investigations’ success, she realizes that she did not hear a word of the teacher’s instructions. Quickly looking to the chalkboard at the front of the classroom, Luz sees the teacher is already erasing the instructions. Luz laughs nervously and looks over to Boscha, who looks unamused.

“Eheheh, I don’t suppose you'd be willing to share your notes, would you?” Luz asks.

“...Why wouldn’t I? We’re partners in this, right? Just don’t let it happen again.”

With a sigh of relief, Luz goes over the notes Boscha took and prepares the cauldron. While Luz fills the cauldron with several gallons of water, Boscha starts a fire beneath it and adjusts it to high heat. The water begins boiling, and the two of them start getting the required ingredients out from the cabinets beneath the desk.

“Looks like the first ingredient we need to add is an ounce of frog warts,” Boscha explains while going over her notes.

“Okay, got it,” Luz says, reaching for the bottle of frog warts. She pauses, thinking this is as good a chance as any to try broaching the subject again, “Say, Boscha, is there anyone else at school you think is cute? You know, aside from yourself.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if there are any students at school that you think are cute.”

“...Are you being serious right now?” Boscha quips, setting down her notes and glaring at Luz, “I don’t know if you’re being annoying on purpose or if it just comes naturally, but why don’t you get your head out of the clouds and try focusing on the assignment, you bumbling, round-eared moron!”

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to--.” Luz whimpers before being interrupted by Boscha.

“I didn’t _ask_ for small talk, I _asked_ you to hand me the bottle of frog warts.” 

Luz silently hands the bottle over to Boscha, who then pours in an ounce of warts into the cauldron and stirs. For the next several minutes, not a word comes out of Luz’s mouth as she merely follows whatever instructions come her way. Grabbing bottles of ingredients, measuring amounts in wooden cups, and stirring the concoction when necessary. While Boscha is pleased to have such an obedient partner, that satisfaction fades when she realizes just how downtrodden Luz seems. While it was easy to get on her nerves, Boscha knew that was no excuse for her behavior, yet keeping her cool was not one of her strong suits. 

As Boscha finishes pouring the last ingredient into the cauldron, she stays quiet, realizing that she had overreacted. After all, Luz was only trying to make conversation after volunteering to be her partner. If Luz was being so enthusiastic about trying to be friendly towards her, the least Boscha could do was reciprocate that gesture. Swallowing her pride, and trying to be apologetic, Boscha says, “All that’s left is mixing it, so… do you want to, like, talk while we take turns stirring?”

Luz smiles softly. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’m sorry for bugging you though, It’s just…”

“Just what?”  
  
“Well, uh," Luz pauses, trying to think of a believable lie, "I’ve been at Hexside for a while now and was wondering what the dating scene is like. I just thought that someone like you would know something about it.”

“Oh,” Boscha laughs, her cheeks tinge a soft pink hue, “I haven’t been keeping up with all that recently, I've been, uh, preoccupied.”

“Oh? Is that because you have your eyes on someone?” Luz smiles knowingly.

“Pfft, what?” Boscha laughs defensively, looking away from Luz, “I’m the captain of the Hexside Banshees. People have crushes _on me_ , not the other way around.”

“So, there isn’t someone here at school that you _secretly admire_?”

The soft pink tinging Boscha’s cheeks erupt into a bright red that covers her entire face as she laughs nervously. “Wh-what makes you say that?”

“Well, there were these love letters in Willow’s locker and--” Luz is, once again, interrupted. This time, however, it’s because Boscha has placed a hand over her mouth.

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Boscha says, the vibrant red flush spreading from ear to ear, yet her tone sounds as flustered as it does frustrated, “I’m not removing my hand until you agree to keep this a secret from everyone... Especially you-know-who, understand?"

Luz nods.

“I’ve got Grudgby practice after school today, we can discuss that _particular_ topic when it's over. Got it?"

Luz nods again.

* * *

Later that day, after school has let out, Boscha and several other members of the Hexside Banshees are changing into their Grudgby uniforms in the locker room; Skara is adjusting the red scrunchie that manages her dyed white hair, Amelia is applying a green facepaint beneath her eyes, meanwhile, Boscha slowly puts on her shoulder pads. After putting on the finishing touches and brushing a green hair out of her face, Amelia rinses off the brush and passes it to Skara. The two of them exchange whispers, before turning to look at Boscha. Just yesterday, she was looking tense, but now she looks completely stressed. 

“What’s the matter, Boscha?” Skara asks, setting down the brush and turning away from the mirror, “You’re never this anxious before practice. Did something happen? Was it Amity again?”

“No, it wasn’t Amity.” Boscha lets out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms as she sits down onto one of the benches, “It was Luz.”

Skara and Amelia exchange glances.

“Then what are you worried about?” Amelia sits beside Boscha then places a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’ve had several classes with Luz and she’s one the nicest witches I know. She’s not about to blab about your secret to Willow.”

Skara leans in to join, wrapping her arms around Boscha’s waist and giving a soft squeeze as Amelia pats Boscha's shoulder. At first, Boscha flinches at the impromptu hug, after all, she is still getting used to this sort of affection. It is beginning to feel more pleasant than uncomfortable, but it's still nerve-racking. Taking a deep breath, Boscha places a hand over Amelia's hand, then reaches back to wrap her arm around Skara. At first, her hand instinctively jolts away from Amelia's hand, but she manages to keep it in place as her cheeks flush a tinge pink. It is hard to describe the sort of comfort Boscha feels from her friends, but a wave of relief passes over her and helps calm her ever so slightly.

“...You’re right, you’re right.” Boscha says, smiling softly. “It’s just… first Amity figures it out and then Luz? At this rate, _everyone_ at school will know before the end of the week.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Amelia says, getting up to put on her shoulder pads, “I’ve been talking to Willow during class and she’s been in a great mood because of those letters. At this point, I think she’s head over heels for her secret admirer. Maybe Amity and Luz finding out is a sign.”

“A sign?” Boscha asks.

“Yeah, maybe it’s time for you to confess your love, _you know_ , face-to-face,” Skara suggests.

Boscha’s eyes widen, her face flushes a vibrant pink hue, and she quickly shakes her head, ruffling her hair. “No. _No way_. Never! I am absolutely, _one-hundred percent_ , _not_ ready to do that.”

Amelia and Skara both giggle, seeing Boscha’s vehement refusal is as amusing as it is adorable. As her friends laugh at her expense, Boscha can feel her blush go past her face and extend to the tips of her pointed ears. It’s truly an uncharacteristic sight, and before long, even Boscha is laughing.

“Okay, okay.” Boscha stifles her laughter, still blushing, “I’ll consider confessing my feelings, but… _definitely_ not today.”

“Well, whenever you do decide to confess your feelings to Willow, we’ll be there to back you up,” Amelia says, flashing a thumbs up at Boscha. Skara nods and does the same.

Boscha, feeling invigorated by her friends’ support, stands up from the bench and is now beaming with confidence. “Alright! Let’s get on the Grudgby field! I am feeling _pumped_!”

The three of them finish getting into uniform and head out of the locker room. While making their way to the Grudgby field, they make casual conversation about what practice today is going to entail; mostly exercises, practicing plays, and brainstorming new moves. There's even the possibility of holding try-outs, as there is an open space for another member of the team. Once they make it to the field, however, Boscha’s face flushes an intense red hue and she freezes in place. Amelia and Skara look to where Boscha is staring and see a handful of other students sitting in the stands. There were the usual fans in the bleachers, already cheering at the sight of Boscha's arrival. 

However, amongst the usual crowd of fans, sitting in the front row, is Luz, Gus, and Willow. 

Amelia turns to Boscha, “Did you know they were going to be watching us practice today?”

“No, I told Luz she could come but I didn’t think she would invite her friends to come too,” Boscha says, feeling her heart begin to pound against her chest. “Is it okay if I freak out? I feel like freaking out.”

Skara and Amelia look to each other, then look back to Boscha and nod.

Boscha clenches her fists tightly at her side, takes a deep breath, and then lets out a muffled scream.


	4. A Match Made on Titan

It’s the late afternoon, the sun looms high above a clear sky and though classes for the day have already ended, the grudgby field at Hexside is anything but empty. Sitting upon the bleachers are over a dozen fans, each of them eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Hexside Banshees. In the front row, chatting amongst themselves, are Luz, Willow, and Gus. While Gus regularly watches the Hexside Banshees practice, this is the first time Luz or Willow has watched them practice. As one might expect, their discussion centers around the identity of Willow’s secret admirer.

“You’re _sure_ you can’t tell me who it is?” Willow says.

“Sorry, but I promised your admirer I wouldn’t reveal their identity to you--” As Luz speaks, Willow immediately points at Gus but Luz quickly reacts by adding, “--or anybody else.”

“Then why are you and Willow here?” Gus asks.

“Are you complaining?” Luz quips.

Gus squints at Luz; he is wearing a hat bearing the Hexside Banshee’s logo upon his head while holding a fan in each hand. Luz stares back at him, snickering. ”Just answer the question,” he says.

“We’re here because I never promised I wouldn’t give Willow the opportunity to solve the mystery for herself,” Luz explains, “It’s called a _loophole_ , people use it all the time where I’m from.”

“Seems sneaky… I _like_ it!” Gus says.

“It feels a little underhanded,” Willow admits.

Luz looks away and shrugs, wearing an uneasy smile. Being caught between two conflicting promises is difficult, and finding wiggle room between them to maintain both is even harder, but this is the best middle-ground she can think of. “I know it’s a little, uh, unpleasant but--!” Luz explains the situation to the best of her abilities, but Willow tunes out whatever Luz is saying in favor of looking at the bracelet upon her wrist. As of now, she is already aware that her admirer is in the potions track, and through context clues, she can reason that the admirer is going to be at the grudgby field sometime soon. Yet despite several potions track students sitting nearby on the bleachers, Luz’s scrying stone isn’t giving off so much as a faint glow. Her curiosity temporarily sated, Willow manages to hear the very end of Luz’s explanation. “--and this is the only way I can keep both promises. I hope you understand.”

“Completely!” Gus says, waving his flags jauntily.

Willow, having heard none of it, simply nods, “Oh yes, of course.”

Luz smiles at her friends, who smiled right back. Several minutes pass, during which time Willow sneaks multiple glances at Luz’s bracelet until eventually, the stone starts glowing with a soft, warm light. At the same time, the other students sitting on the bleachers cheer as Boscha, Skara, and Amelia of the Hexside Banshees step out from the locker room and onto the edge of the grudgby field. Willow’s gaze quickly shifts between the glow of the scrying stone and Boscha; the only student amongst the newly arrived trio that's a part of the potions track. 

“Could it be..?” Willow mutters to herself.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, the Hexside Banshees always start practice without delay even if someone is absent. This, however, is unlike any circumstances they've encountered before. The idea of her crush watching her run around in a sports uniform while sweating is almost too much for Boscha to handle. After muffling an intense, panicked scream, Boscha’s throat feels as though it’s on fire.

“Just relax,” Skara offers a bottle of water to her panicking friend. “So she’s here with her friends to watch us practice, no big deal. Everything will be fine, you've got nothing to worry about.”

Boscha messily chugs the water, replying only after finishing half the bottle. “Right. It’s just practice like usual. Just practice with the cutest witch in all of Hexside watching me…” she takes a deep breath, then chugs the remainder of the water bottle. ”I can do this."

They start practice with a variety of stretches and simple exercises before getting into the one-on-one matches; the most effective way to practice fundamentals outside of a proper match. After a brief back and forth, they decide the first match will be between Boscha and Skara. While Boscha and Skara take their positions on the grudgby field, Amelia heads over to the bleachers. On the sidelines, a volunteer student clad in a striped school uniform pulls a whistle out from their pocket, takes a deep breath, and blows into it.

And with that, the match begins.

In an instant, Boscha rushes to the center of the field and snatches the ball. In retaliation, Skara attempts to tackle her, but Boscha manages to duck and weave past Skara. When Boscha gets halfway to the goal post, the ground ahead tears open to reveal an immense chasm that belches fire. With Skara hot on Boscha’s heels, going around the chasm would allow her to catch up. More than willing to take the risk for the sake of scoring the first point, Boscha takes a running start and attempts to leap over the chasm. Mid-jump, Boscha lobs the ball at the goal post. The crowd watches with bated breath as the ball soars through the air, in a perfect arc, and passes through the goal post. The crowd cheers uproariously, Boscha barely manages to stick the landing as she touches down on the edge of the chasm. She hurries to retrieve the ball, then places it back at the center of the field. Boscha and Skara get back into position then start the next round. So enthralled by the grudgby match, Luz, Gus, and Willow are unable to look away. As such, none of them notice Amelia approaching before taking a seat beside Luz. 

Amelia asks aloud, for all three of them to hear. “Enjoying the game?”

Gus jumps up in his seat, arms stretched upwards, and cheers happily as Skara scores a point against Boscha. “Absolutely!” he exclaims without looking away from the action.

“It’s pretty exciting,” Willow says, “I didn’t expect grudgby practice to be so intense. They’re really giving it their all out there.”

Amelia chuckles, “Normally it isn’t this intense.”

Luz chimes in, “Maybe they're trying to impress _someone_ in the audience?”

Amelia shoots an unamused glare at Luz, then leans forward to better address Willow. “Oh, since you’re here, I was actually hoping I could ask you something.”

“Oh? What’s up?”

“I know you turned us down before, but I was hoping you would reconsider joining the team,” Amelia explains, gesturing towards the ongoing match. “You showed a lot of raw talent and Boscha said that with some training and a bit of discipline, you could be our star player.”

“Boscha said that…” Willow’s ears perk up as she speaks, “...about _me_?”

“It’s a little hard to believe, I’m sure, but it’s true. She really does--” Amelia pauses, finding the right words before she continues. “--think highly of you.”

“I’m not sure.”  
  
“Hey, no pressure! We would be happy to have you on the team, but we totally respect whatever choice you make,” Amelia says with a smile.

“Thank you,” Willow smiles back at Amelia, and the two turn their attention back to the game.

At this point, the score is tied with Boscha and Skara both sitting at nine points. Only thirty seconds remain on the clock. Neither competitor wants things to go into overtime, as that's when the field becomes unbelievably treacherous, so they both get ready for one last play. Skara cracks her knuckles. Boscha stretches her legs. Once the round begins, both of them bolt for the center of the field. Having managed to build up considerable speed, Skara dives forth to try and reach the ball before Boscha. However, Boscha manages to reach the center of the field less than a second before Skara, suddenly kicking the ball with all her might.

Several voices in the audience cry out with varying degrees of surprise, “What?” “ _What_?!” “You can _do_ that?!” 

Skara glances upwards, getting back on her feet when Boscha uses a blast of magic to launch herself upward. First, she performs a front-flip, then she snatches the ball out of mid-air, and finally spikes it through the goal post. The clock hits zero right as the scoreboard ticks upward. The volunteer student blows into the whistle, signaling the end of the match. With a score of ten to nine, Boscha wins by the skin of her teeth.

“That was amazing!” Skara tries to catch her breath, still reeling from the intense match, “I’ve never seen you play that hard before, were you trying to impress _you-know-who_?”

A small tinge of pink graces Boscha’s cheeks, “Yeah. Yeah, I was. Do you think she noticed?”

Skara and Boscha look over to the bleachers where Amelia is seated and see her, alongside Willow, Gus, and Luz, cheering. Hearing all that applause fills Boscha with a wealth of confidence and determination. Now was her chance to ride the adrenaline and face her fears. As Amelia descends from the bleachers and steps onto the grudgby field, Skara drinks from her water bottle while Boscha catches her breath. They spend several minutes discussing the plays and maneuvers used in the match just now before the conversation turns to a more personal topic.

“Are you two cool with me sitting out?” Boscha asks, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I’ve got something I want to tell _you-know-who_.”

Amelia and Skara gasp, their mouths agape.

“Are you serious? I thought you said you weren’t ready.” Amelia says.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but right now I’m feeling tough, fearless, and hopeful,” Boscha says, puffing out her chest and clenching her fist.

“Sounds like a winning attitude to me,” Skara places a hand on Boscha’s shoulder, “You’ve got this.”

“You’ve got this!” Amelia says, placing her hand on Boscha's other shoulder.  
  
“I’ve got this.” Boscha proclaims.

Carrying herself with what one might consider being a well-deserved sense of confidence, Boscha walks off the grudgby field and makes her way up the bleachers. Everyone on the bleachers calls out to Boscha in the hopes of getting her attention or an autograph, but she ignores all of them. Instead, she approaches Willow. Yet despite the rush of adrenaline filling Boscha with confidence, it starts melting away the closer she gets to Willow. The instant Boscha's and Willow’s eyes meet, it feels as though her heart may burst out of her chest. Standing so close to Willow, she can see those exuberant emerald eyes shine with a youthful glow. Boscha’s palms get sweaty, her cheeks flush a bright red, and she becomes painfully aware of her strained breathing.

“Is this… Uh, is…” Boscha stammers, barely able to form words.

Willow watches as the imposing witch that has spent nearly a fourth of the school year harassing her becomes a nervous, blushing mess in the blink of an eye. With nothing more than a cursory glance over to Luz’s scrying stone, she can see it shining brighter than before. It was painfully obvious at this point that Boscha is her secret admirer. With this revelation, a slew of emotion washes over Willow. Difficult, bewildering emotions. Feelings that are too complex to process at the moment, and so she decides to trust her gut.

“Do you want to sit next to me?” Willow asks, smiling.

Boscha’s face flushes pink and all she can manage to do is nod and sit down. While Gus can’t tear his eyes away from the action on the grudgby field, Luz is unable to look away from the awkward romance unfolding right next to her. Boscha fidgets nervously, wiping her sweaty palms against her shorts, leaving her hands feeling clammy. There is an awkward, palpable tension in the air as Willow waits expectantly for Boscha to find the words she's desperately searching for.

After nearly a minute of keeping Willow waiting, Boscha says. “Willow, there’s… uh, there’s something I want to tell you but I’m… I’m _terrified_ of how you might answer.” 

Willow watches, wordlessly, as Boscha continues.

“I’ve been… terrible to you for so long and I want to apologize. You don’t have to forgive me…” Boscha crosses her arms, gripping her shoulders as if to hug herself. As she looks downward, tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes. Her throat feels strained, her chest feels tense. “I wouldn’t blame you, honestly… I’ve hurt you, your friends… And all of that, all of what I’ve done is what makes this next part even harder to admit because I… Willow, I… I…” Boscha’s voice hitches in her throat, her eyes forced shut from the pain.

Just then, she feels a hand against her own. It’s startling at first, but comforting all the same. “Thanks, Luz…” Boscha mutters.

“That’s not _my_ hand,” Luz says.

Boscha’s eyes open wide as she looks over to see Willow’s hand touching hers. “W-Willow..?”

A soft pink tinges Willow’s cheeks as she smiles, “It’s okay, Boscha. You can say it, even if it _isn’t_ from the highest point in the Boiling Isle.”

Boscha looks away then softly mutters something under her breath so quietly that no one could hear. Attempting to reassure her, Willow squeezes Boscha’s hand with a firm yet gentle grip. In an instant, Boscha’s heart swells with emotion and she’s no longer able to hold back as a stream of tears trickle across her flushed cheeks. “I love you.” she finally admits, turning back to Willow and repeating it as she hugs her as tight as she can. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The soft pink on Willow’s face becomes a bright red as she giggles, returning the hug. Now in the arms of the girl she admires more than anything else on the Isle, Boscha wants nothing more than for this moment to last forever. Yet it ends far sooner than she'd like as Willow slowly pushes her away, then adjusts her glasses. Wiping away the tears in her eyes, Boscha eagerly awaits Willow’s response. Her eyes sting, her throat feels like it's burning, and despite everything thus far, she expects the worst while hoping for the best.  
  
“I’m flattered you feel that way, Boscha,” Willow says with a bittersweet smile, “It’s just that I don’t feel the same way. It’s… _difficult_ to say how I feel right now. Those letters were so sweet and wonderful, but you agree that we shouldn’t ignore how you treated me before...”

Boscha nods, inhaling sharply as her chest tenses up.

“That said... I would like to give you a chance. How about a date? We can get lunch tomorrow, then go to the library.” Willow suggests.

“ _Yes_! _**Absolutely**_!” Boscha joyfully exclaims.

Uproarious applause comes from the bleachers, and while this cheering is in response to Skara scoring the winning goal against Amelia, that’s not how Boscha hears it. Looking toward the audience, Skara and Amelia wave to their many fans. Their attention is quickly drawn to the sight of Boscha embracing Willow. In all the years they've known her, and even though they've seen her smile numerous times as of late, Boscha looks to be the happiest they have ever seen her.


	5. Lunch, a Library, and Looming Shadows

On this day, the sun shines brightly as it sails lazily over the horizon. The sound of wildlife echoes through the trees; birds chirping, wolves howling, and griffons belching spiders in the distance. Such a carefree weekend afternoon is like a paradise for the townspeople of Bonesborough. A carefree weekend for everyone but Boscha, who is pacing back and forth just a few feet away from Willow’s house. At present, Boscha dressed in more casual yet formal attire: a black button-up dress shirt, black dress shorts with a white leather belt, and her grudgby jacket. She takes several deep breaths to calm her nerves, finally managing to calm her nerves enough to approach the front door. 

“ _You can do this, you can do this_...” Boscha mutters to herself before knocking on the door.

“Just a minute!” a masculine voice calls out from inside the house. In half that time, a bespectacled witch with slicked-back green hair answers the door, “Hello there, what can I do for you?” he asks with a smile.

“I’m here to see Willow,” Boscha rubs the back of her neck, smiling nervously, “She and I have a date this afternoon. Is she ready to go?”

“Let me go check on her real quick.” the bespectacled witch turns away and closes the door. 

Boscha stays put and, while she waits, she can just barely make out the sound of Willow talking to her fathers. From what Boscha can hear, several last-minute adjustments are being made to Willow's outfit. Overhearing just how much extra effort Willow seems to be putting into her wardrobe for this outing, Boscha worries that she might be underdressed. Fortunately, she came prepared. Boscha rummages through a purse she has borrowed from her mother, looking for anything that could add some extra flair to her appearance. While Boscha rummages through her mother’s purse for some make-up, she doesn’t notice as the front door opens once more. This time, however, Willow is standing in the doorway. 

“ _Ahem._ Boscha? I’m right here, not in your purse.” Willow says teasingly.

At first, Boscha’s cheeks flush a soft pink from embarrassment, but that blush deepens to a bright red once she sees Willow’s outfit; a beautiful yellow sundress with dark green trim, along with a pair of sunflower earrings. “ _Wow_. You look _amazing_ ,” Boscha says.

“Thank you,” Willow replies, stepping outside and getting a good look at Boscha’s get-up. It‘s more formal than she expected, but it certainly fits Boscha’s style. “I have to admit, you look _very_ handsome in that.”

“Glad you like it, I picked it out myself,” Boscha claims but, in truth, her mother and father spent the entire morning trying to help her decide on an outfit. That painstaking experience had taken nearly two hours. “I take it you’re ready for our date then, right?”

Willow nods, a tinge of pink appears against her ears at the word 'date'.

They wave goodbye to Willow’s fathers and make their way down the road, heading toward Bonesborough. Along the way, Willow reaches a hand toward Boscha, trying to take hold of her hand. Yet each time, as soon as their fingers touch Boscha pulls her hand away reflexively and absentmindedly. It isn’t until after the third attempt that she realizes what Willow is trying to do.

Boscha fidgets anxiously while asking, “Did you want to… hold hands?”

“Is that okay?” Willow replies.

“ _Yeah_. Yeah, that’s fine.” Boscha reaches out to take hold of Willow’s hand, but reels back and wipes her palm against her dress shorts. 

After that, she takes Willow’s hand in hers; their fingers interlock into a warm, gentle hold. As they walk through Bonesborough, hand-in-hand, Boscha can feel her heartbeat hasten as the townspeople watch them pass by. Sensing her date’s unease, Willow squeezes Boscha’s hand and smiles at her. Boscha squeezes right back, smiling in turn. Now entering the shopping district, they make their way toward the business district. It doesn’t take long to find the restaurant they’re looking for, especially since the sign for it stands out. No other restaurant on the road has a sign so faded or rustic. The exterior of this casual looking eatery, known as Pimento Yard, has several outdoor tables set up with large parasols of white and green. Boscha holds the door open for Willow and they head inside. 

The interior of Pimento Yard is an unusual balance between formal and family-friendly. Several hand-carved wooden tables with matching chairs line the restaurant’s hardwood flooring. On each table is a simple white tablecloth, with green napkins wrapped around the silverware. The waiters wear formal attire of earthly tones and hues, almost blending in with the rest of the decorum. Everything else decorating the restaurant’s interior is quite ordinary and wouldn’t look out of place in someone’s home. Overall, the atmosphere feels as though the restaurant is trying to present itself as a familiar, comfortable eatery. Though, such an aesthetic choice is off-putting to some.

“This place looks like my grandma’s dining room...” Boscha grumbles.

“It's very cozy if you ask me,” Willow says, “then again this _is_ my favorite restaurant so I might be a little biased.”

“Oh, really? Huh, what luck.” Boscha says with a playful smile. She had actually asked Luz and Gus what Willow’s favorite restaurant is shortly after grudgby practice yesterday, not that she’s about to admit that.

Behind a finely carved wood podium resembling a bear is a host, already in the middle of greeting another couple. Once they're taken care of, the host turns to Boscha and Willow with a friendly smile. “Hello, welcome to Pimento Yard. How may I help you?” he asks, brushing his finely combed mustache.

Boscha approaches the host and replies, “I have a reservation for Adekemi. Party of two.”

“Ah, yes. This way, please.” The host retrieves two menus from a side slot in the podium then hands them off to a different host, who then leads Boscha and Willow to a window-side table.

After taking their seats, they read over the menus and place their orders. Since they managed to arrive before the lunch rush, it doesn’t take too long for Boscha’s and Willow’s orders to arrive from the kitchen. The chicken scampi Willow ordered looks delicious, as does Boscha’s medium-rare steak alfredo. Casual conversation is had between the two in between bites. At times they touch upon topics such as the rest of their weekend plans and how classes are going. Sometimes, however, they discuss whatever the latest gossip around Hexside might be. Eventually, Willow makes mention of the grudgby match later this month. 

“Oh, that reminds me.” Boscha takes a sip of her iced tea, “Amelia talked to you about joining the Banshees, right?”

Willow nods, unable to answer with her mouthful of pasta.

“If you ultimately decide you don't want to join the team, could you at least share your exercise routine with us?" Boscha asks, stabbing a fork into her alfredo.

“How did you know I exercise?” Willow replies with a look of surprise, as her morning exercises were something of a secret.

“Well… The school uniform hides it pretty well, but right now I can see plenty of muscle on those strong arms of yours. Not to mention your stamina. I mean, puh- _lease_ , you must run a mile a day at least.”

Unaccustomed to such a flurry of compliments, Willow can’t help but blush a bright pink from ear to ear, “A mile and a half, actually. Every morning.”

Their conversation livens up as they exchange exercise routines, advice, and more. After nearly thirty or so minutes, Willow’s plate is clean while Boscha still has several bites of her steak left. They get the remainder of Boscha’s meal tucked into a to-go bag. After that, Boscha pays the bill, leaving a generous tip on the table for their server. On the way out of Pimento Yard, they hold hands once more.

* * *

Boscha’s and Willow’s walk from the restaurant to the library is quiet as they take the scenic route, enjoying the fair weather and one another’s company. Along the way, they pass by several familiar faces and wave to friends. By the time they finally arrive at the library, the sun has begun its descent. From what Boscha can tell, it's the late afternoon. There is considerable foot traffic at the library. As they head inside, Boscha lets go of Willow’s hand and lets her take the lead. 

“Why did you want to come to the library anyway?” Boscha asks, “Did you need to return a book or something?”

“Nope, nothing like that. I want us to try something my dads did when they started dating,” Willow replies.

“What, reading? Isn’t that something we can do anywhere?” 

Willow doesn’t answer and instead makes her way past several other witches. From where she's standing, Boscha can not see the glint of excitement in Willow's eyes as she searches the fiction section of the library. In no time at all, Willow finds exactly what she’s looking for and pulls a book off one of the shelves. After Boscha catches up, Willow hands the book over. Despite belonging to the library, this book appears to be surprisingly worn. Judging by the cover and the title, _Massive Downpour_ , it seems to be a gritty mystery novel set in a bustling city. Flipping it over, Boscha reads the summary on the back. It makes mention of a serial killer whose victims are linked solely by origami. It’s not a book Boscha is familiar with, though that’s mostly because the book came out roughly ten years ago to mixed reviews. Not to mention the other poorly received books from that author.

“Do you want me to _read this_ , or..?” Boscha asks, glancing up to Willow then back to the book's cover.

“I do, yeah.” Willow smiles warmly before explaining her intent behind this excursion, “When my dads first started dating, they read each other’s favorite books to get to know each other a little better.”

Boscha clutches the book against her chest, her heart skipping a beat upon hearing the word ‘dating’ escape Willow’s lips. “That’s pretty romantic and sweet and… _Wait_ , you want to read _my_ favorite book?”

Willow nods, “I'm really curious about it. Is it Fiction? Non-Fiction? An auto-biography?” she asks excitedly.

“It’s fiction. I just... don’t want to say the title out loud,” Boscha's words devolve into a mumble as she speaks.

Boscha turns away from Willow and begins scanning the shelves, looking all over for her favorite book. With the library organizing them by genre and in alphabetical order, it doesn’t take long for her to find it alongside its many sequels. Yet as Boscha goes to pull it off the shelf, she hesitates. While the first book isn’t exactly her favorite, it would be out of place to hand Willow the third book of such a long series. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve read any of the Nightlight series, have you?” Boscha’s voice nearly squeaks as she says this, her entire face turning red.

Willow snickers, shaking her head. “Is that your favorite? I thought mine was embarrassing but yours is--”

Boscha pulls the first book of the Nightlight series off the shelf and quickly hands it to Willow, silencing her, “I know, I know,” Boscha grumbles, feeling like she may die of embarrassment. “It’s a trashy romance novel about some lonely idiot that falls in love with their abomination, but I like it.”

“Then I look forward to reading it, now come on,” Willow holds the book to her chest then takes Boscha’s hand in hers, “Let’s go find a nice place to read.” 

Willow leads Boscha toward the back of the library where multiple cushioned chairs are arranged in a semi-circle, across from a cozy-looking sofa. They sit down on the sofa next to one another and read. As she reads, Boscha is surprised to find herself enjoying the start of this mystery novel. Each character introduced throughout the first chapter is mildly interesting and surprisingly well-established. Seeing a loving family get ready for a birthday party is always a pleasant scene in any form of media. Though before Boscha can become more deeply invested in the story, she feels something move across her lap.

Looking down, Boscha sees Willow is now laying down on her lap. Boscha nervously sets her elbows down on Willow’s back and resumes reading. As the chapter progresses, the main character’s family suffers a significant loss, an event that catches Boscha off guard. She didn’t expect the book to become so grim so quickly. Just then, as she is about to turn the page, Boscha quickly raises her elbows as she feels Willow moving beneath them. Another glance downward, and she can see that Willow is now lying on her back. 

Much too nervous to set her elbows down on Willow’s stomach, Boscha keeps her arms raised uncomfortably in the air. She only just starts the second chapter of the novel before she feels Willow shuffling about once more. Boscha sighs, then lowers the book to look at Willow, who is now sitting up straight in her lap. With their faces so close in proximity, Boscha’s cheeks flush a vibrant red, as does Willow’s.

“Are you having trouble getting comfortable?” Boscha asks sheepishly, avoiding eye contact as her heartbeat intensifies, “I could sit somewhere else so you can have the sofa to yourself.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…” Willow sets down her book and places a hand on her chest, “I’m having trouble focusing, that's all.” she laughs nervously.

“Me too,” Boscha admits as she sets her book down as well, “Maybe we should go somewhere that isn’t so secluded, this whole situation feels more than a little--” Boscha feels a warm, soft hand brush against her cheek. Her heart nearly bursts out of her chest as she giddily mutters, “-- _intimate_.”

Willow leans in closer, so close that Boscha can feel Willow’s warm breath brush against her cheek. Her heartbeat pounding against her chest. Her palms are sweaty. Boscha closes her eyes and leans into what she believes to be a kiss, only to feel a finger press against her lips. She opens her eyes to see Willow with a tinge of pink gracing her cheeks.

“You’re probably right,” Willow says with a teasing smile, “Let’s go check these out and read them at home. We can talk about them at school on Monday. Does that sound good?”

Internally, Boscha is screaming. Her bottom lip trembles as she nods. She's barely managing to hide just how embarrassed she is. “ _Yeah_ … sounds great!”

They head to the front desk of the library and check out their books. Just before exiting the library, they exchange contact information so they easily contact one another. On their way out, they pass by several young witches. All of them coming from a small room near the front where volunteers can read to the witchlings. Sitting there, closing a children’s book and setting it aside, is Amity Blight. She stares in disbelief, or perhaps tranquil fury, as she watches Willow and Boscha leave the library together; hand-in-hand.

* * *

It is nearly evening as Boscha and Willow walk along the trail leading back to Willow's home. Once they're right outside the front door, they turn to face one another. Boscha rubs the back of her neck, smiling awkwardly. Willow holds her hands together, resting them against her chest. Their first date is coming to an end, and the two of them are basking in the last few moments as the sky shifts to a beautiful orange with faint hints violet streaks running across it. 

“I had a great time, Boscha. I really did,” Willow says.

“Yeah, so did I.” Boscha replies, putting her hands into her pockets.”Do you think we could do this again sometime, like next week?”

“I’d like that.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you around then, have a nice evening.” Boscha turns around and starts to walk away. Her next step, however, is cut short as something strong takes hold of her arm. Boscha turns and sees Willow’s arm outstretched, her hand gripping Boscha’s wrist. “Did you need something--”

Willow plants a kiss upon Boscha without warning, catching her by complete surprise. It’s a short kiss, little more than a peck on the lips, but it leaves Boscha speechless. Willow quickly pulls away from the kiss, looking away as a glowing pink hue covers her face. Boscha raises a hand to touch her lips as an intense red grows across her cheeks, spreading ear to ear.

“I didn’t need to but I…” Willow clears her throat, “I really wanted to kiss you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. _More_ than okay.”

Willow and Boscha say one last goodbye for the night and part ways, waving to each other until completely out of view. Once inside her home, Willow talks to her fathers about her wonderful first date and how much she looks forward to the next. Meanwhile, Boscha walks down along the road leading back to Boneborough as the moon rises above the horizon. Her first date with Willow ended with them sharing a kiss. Boscha’s first kiss, at that. She couldn’t stop wondering if it was Willow’s first kiss as well. So many questions run through her head, all of them hopeful.

So lost in bliss and humming aloud, Boscha fails to notice as someone approaches her from the shadows nearby.


	6. The Blight of Her Life

The trail leading from one of the many residential neighborhoods back to Bonesborough's main streets is illuminated by the burgeoning moonlight. Countless stars twinkle beyond the clouds and in the sky above. The serenity of this evening is accompanied by the rustling of leaves atop the trees; blown by a gentle ocean breeze. Basking in such a pleasant evening atmosphere, Boscha heads home. Unawares of the individual following her along the trail until they decide to make themself known by stepping through the brush and speaking in a firm, feminine voice.

“Boscha, can we talk?”

A startling jolt surges through Boscha, but that feeling fades away once she turns and sees that this mysterious voice belongs to her former friend.

“Oh, Amity. It’s just _you_ ,” she sneers, “Why are you out here lurking in the bushes like some sort of creep?” 

“It’s... complicated.” 

“Wait,” Boscha furrows her brow, clenching her fists “were you _following_ me?” 

“I wasn’t! Well, not at first… I saw the tail-end of your time at the library and then followed you here.” Amity says, a conflicted smile on her face, “At first I was going to say something but…”

Boscha raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms, impatiently waiting for Amity to explain herself.

“But then I saw how happy you and Willow were spending time together, and I realized that maybe... Maybe I was wrong about you...” Amity's smile softens considerably.

“Uh, thanks.” Boscha hesitantly smiles back.

Amity’s soft smile hardens into a bitter frown, “Then I gave it some more thought, and I realized that you could do more harm as a _friend_ than you ever could as a _bully_.”

“What? I wouldn’t--”

“Wouldn’t hurt a friend?” Amity interrupts, clutching the messenger bag at her side as she takes a step forward, “I remember several occasions when **you** hurt your friends. When _you_ hurt them by insulting them. Belittling their efforts and interest.” As she speaks, Amity draws a large, violet circle behind Boscha with a flick of her wrist, “Abomination, rise!”

An enormous, humanoid-figure of slithering purple slime erupts forth from the magic circle and wraps its arms around Boscha; one around her neck, and the other around her waist. Using swift movements and great strength, the abomination lifts her off the ground. Boscha struggles to no avail. Each kick merely sinks into its viscous mass. Boscha realizes she is completely restrained and at the mercy of her former friend, Amity Blight. At this moment, she is overwhelmed with a combination of fear and anger.

“What are you talking about?!” Boscha grits her teeth.

“I...” Amity hesitates in her words, only for a moment, before a wave of lingering anger boils over, “I’m talking about when _you_ threw trash at her head! When _you_ abandoned her when you were just witchlings! When **you** endangered her mental well-being just to _protect your own feelings_!"

“ _When did I--?!_ ” Boscha kicks and prepares to scream, only for the abomination to extend its slime upward, covering her mouth.

From the messenger bag at her side, Amity retrieves an ornate jewelry box and a scroll with a golden seal that depicts a heart wrapped in brambles. Without delay, she cracks the seal and unfurls the scroll. The scroll and jewelry box are immediately engulfed in a sharp, blue aura that cuts through the encroaching darkness of the night. Amity's hands start shaking, becoming worse with every step toward Boscha.

Amity takes a deep breath to try and steady herself; glancing at her hands. In her left, a scroll containing a vile curse to remove all emotion from one’s heart. In her right, an enchanted box necessary to contain it. Less than an hour ago, this felt like the proper course of action. Yet now, as she looks into the terrified eyes of her former friend, she feels doubt surge through her guilty heart. 

“What am I doing..?” she mutters.

Panic sets in and, within seconds, Amity’s can feel her heart pounding wildly against her chest. Her breathing becomes haggard and painful. Every thought in her head is screaming for her to stop, yet her legs continue to carry her forward. Her eyes fixate upon Boscha who, for just a moment, doesn’t look like herself. For just a second, Amity sees herself being held hostage by the grotesque abomination.

Amity breaks into a cold sweat, eyes widening as her throat becomes hoarse. She manages to whisper, “Abomination, cease.” before falling to her knees.

Obeying her command, the abomination releases Boscha before retreating into the magic circle it came from; dropping her to the ground with an unpleasant thud. With tears in her eyes, Amity throws the jewelry box onto the ground and tears into the scroll, ripping it to shreds. She bites her lower lip, trying and failing, to keep it from trembling. Teardrops slide off her cheeks and onto the road beneath. Boscha, having already picked herself up off the ground, comes to the sad realization that she isn’t the only one still struggling with her inner demons.

“Boscha, I’m so sorry,” Amity’s voice cracks as she speaks through whimpers, “I’m so sorry…”

Boscha can feel her heart pounding in her chest as the adrenaline courses through her. There is a part of her that wants nothing more than to sock Amity in the jaw. That fervent, unbridled anger she’s felt so many times before fills her entire being as she approaches Amity. She clenches her fists, grits her teeth, and...

...defies every instinct, kneeling down and pulling Amity into a hug. 

“B-Boscha..?” Amity’s voice cracks once more.

“It’s _okay_ , Amity,” Boscha says in the softest tone she can muster, gently rubbing Amity’s back, “It’s _okay_.”

“But, I almost--”

“ **Shut up,** ” Boscha squeezes Amity tighter, “I don’t care what you _almost_ did, I’m just glad you didn’t.” 

The fragile serenity of the evening returns as two young witches embrace under the moonlight. Sitting there quietly, Boscha comforts Amity by slowly stroking her hair while Amity keeps her face buried in Boscha’s chest. They sit there together, both of them shedding painful tears, for what feels like hours. The words exchanged by the two of them at this time are ones of apology, of friendship, and promises of new beginnings. 


	7. Epilogue

As the leaves atop the trees change from a vibrant, healthy green to a crisp, rustic orange: it signals the end of the month and the transition from summer to fall. Down the well-traveled dirt road leading into Bonesborough, past a thicket of trees, and towards the cliffside is a cozy little home that belongs to the infamous Owl Lady. The afternoon draws near as the sun sails over the horizon, nary a cloud in the sky to obscure its brilliant glow. This sunshine seeps through the open windows and illuminate the interior of the Owl House.

Inside the house, the living room is bustling with activity though none of it appears to be coming from its primary resident. There's a pair of floating leather gloves hanging up the last in a series of lettered banners while a sentient teddy bear places several plates and silverware upon the coffee table. Plenty of other household objects, enchanted to perform routine tasks, are hard at work on all manner of party decorations. Meanwhile, King is filling up several colorful balloons and letting them float about the room with nothing to tether them down: resulting in a cluttered mass of statically charged plastic toward the center of the ceiling.

“Yes, my minion! _Grow!_ _Grow!_ ” he cackles maniacally right before taking another deep breath and inflating a lime green balloon.

“Are you about done in there?” Eda’s voice booms from the kitchen, “I’m wrist-deep in scaramel and I could use an extra hand.” she tugs her arm backward but, rather than freeing her hand, it snaps off and sinks into the screaming, goopy dessert.

“Just a second!” King fills one last balloon and draws a threatening face on it with a sharpie before heading into the kitchen. Once inside, he sees Eda in the middle of a shouting match with a mixing bowl overflowing with scaramel. It isn’t the first time King has seen her get into a fight with her baked goods, but it was the first time he saw her losing. King retrieves an egg beater from the cupboard, hops onto the counter, and beats the fearsome confection down and back into the bowl. The scaramel gurgles, bubbles, and then spits out Eda’s other hand.

“Thanks for the save,” Eda wipes the loose scaramel off and reattaches her hand, “I doubt Luz and her friends would enjoy me-flavored desserts.”

“Remind me again why we’re preparing a big party? Is it somebody’s birthday?” King gasps sharply, “Is it **my** birthday?!”

“It’s nobody’s birthday,” Eda whaps King on the head with the egg beater.

Despite not feeling the least bit of pain from this, King still instinctively winces and lets out a yelp at such wanton assault. Eda goes back to the counter and resumes baking. His curiosity piqued, King scurries over and hops onto a stool beside the counter. From here he can see Eda’s cookbook open a page showing the recipe for delicious flan.

“So then... why the cake?” King asks, cocking his head at an angle.

Eda smiles warmly then cracks an egg into the mixing bowl, “Luz’s friends are competing in a big Grudgby match today and I’m preparing a celebration for when they win.”

“What if they lose?”

Unamused, Eda wordlessly whaps King over the head with the egg beater again.

Less than an hour later, a familiar group of young witches makes their way down the dirt road and toward the Owl House. At the front of the pack is a rather excited looking Luz. Close behind her are Willow and Gus, both look quite happy. Trailing at the back, Amity, Boscha, Amelia, and Skara are congratulating each other on another grudgby match well played. Judging by the prideful grins on their faces, they won the match handily. As they approach the front of the house, Hooty extends himself outward from the door and greets them with the goofiest smile he can muster.

“Hey, Luz! Hey, Luz’s friends! Do you want to guess what I got stuck in the back of my throat while digging through the garbage?” Hooty asks, a sickeningly saccharine tone to his voice.

“ _Uhh…_ ” Luz winces. Too disgusted to give a proper answer.

While everyone else is busy processing what exactly Hooty just said, Amity promptly pushes the door open without humoring him for more than a second. Everyone quickly follows her inside. Once inside the house, Amity slams the door shut and exclaims several rude remarks. Dejected, Hooty sighs wearily before extending himself back toward the trash cans and drowning his sorrows in discarded food scraps. 

By this point, the living room is lovingly decorated with a plethora of party favors. Banners that read ‘Congratulations’ hang from the ceiling, numerous colorful balloons cling to the nearest surface, and there’s so much confetti on the floor it almost hides all the carpet stains. _Almost_. Luz, admiring the decor, encourages her friends to get comfortable while she sees how things are going in the kitchen. Before she has a chance to round the corner, Eda steps into the living room with a silver platter in her hands. 

“Who’s hungry?” Eda asks.

“I am! I am! All that cooking really worked up an appetite!” King exclaims as he comes barreling out of the kitchen.

“Hold it, mister!” Eda protests by keeping the silver platter out of King’s reach as she walks toward the coffee table, “They’ve got first dibs, you can have the leftovers.”

Crossing his arms and giving a reluctant sigh, King sits back and watches. When the lid comes off, the sweet smell of scaramel-covered flan fills the room. One by one, everyone takes a slice. With so many guests, it’s hardly a surprise that there doesn't appear to be enough to go around. Amity, Amelia, Boscha, Willow, Gus, and Skara all get a decent-sized slice. Luz, however, ends up taking a rather small slice for herself: leaving just enough for King to have some. Lacking a plate, he eats the remainder right off the platter.

As the party progresses, everyone splits up into groups and get involved with all sorts of playful shenanigans.

* * *

Sitting on the couch and chatting about the incredible plays they made during the grudgby, Amelia and Skara are enjoying the lax atmosphere of this rustic little home. As Amelia recounts an embarrassing story about a grudgby ball slamming into her face, Skara bursts into laughter. Having overheard the story, Gus can’t help but let out a loud chortle. Immediately, Amelia and Skara turn to face him with curious expressions. An awkward smile flashes across Gus' face as his cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

“You don't have to eavesdrop if you want to hear more stories, you can just sit next to us,” Amelia pats down the space on the couch beside her. Skara nods.

The sheepish smile he's sporting grows into a big, goofy grin as he scurries across the room. He sits down between Skara and Amelia, squealing with excitement. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“Pfft, of course not.” Skara brushes a strand of loose hair behind her ear, “Bragging is like, half the reason to play grudgby!”

“Totally,” Amelia adds.

“Well, before you blow me away with your _amazing_ tales of conquest on the grudgby field, do you think you could sign a thing or two?” Gus requests.

Amelia and Skara exchange glances. Considering how supportive he's been this season, having attended every game thus far and cheering with all his heart, surely there’s no harm in indulging such a standard request. 

“Sure.” “Yeah, I guess.”

Gus beams. With a flick of his wrist, a large magic circle appears above the couch. Suddenly, an avalanche of Hexside Banshee paraphernalia pours onto their laps and quickly begins to pile up. This egregious stack grows higher and higher until it completely covers both Amelia and Skara. They manage to shake off the excessive amount of merchandise, poking out from the pile--only to see Gus offering each of them a fine-tip black sharpie.

Amelia and Skara glare at him, unamused.

* * *

Upstairs, sitting on the window sill of her bedroom, Luz stares off into the distance and across the still waters surrounding the Boiling Isle. Her mind is racing. Over the last several months she’s experienced so many amazing things: witches’ duels, unusual cuisine, and wonderful friendships. Yet seeing the way Willow and Boscha look at one another leaves her feeling jealous. She can't deny she's been wanting something more similar to what they have. Here she is on the closest thing she's ever had to a summer break but has yet to experience one particular staple of it; a summer romance. So lost in thought, she doesn't hear the door creak open. 

Having just snuck into the room, Amity closes the door behind her as quietly as possible before saying, “Hey, Luz, is everything okay? I saw you sneak off from the party and it looked like something was bothering you.”

“I’m… fine, I guess.” Try as she might, Luz is unable to contain her discontentment. A heavy sigh slips past her lips as she turns away from the window. 

“You don’t _sound_ fine,” Amity steps closer, “you sound upset.”

Luz rubs the back of her neck as she steps down from the window sill, visibly embarrassed. “Is it _that_ obvious?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say obvious, but you clearly have something on your mind.” Amity places her hands on Luz’s shoulders, flashing a timid smile as her cheeks flush a soft pink hue. “If you need someone to talk to, I would be happy to listen.”

A tinge of bright, rosy red graces Luz’s cheeks as she replies. “Thanks, Amity. That means a lot.”

Then, without warning, Luz pulls Amity into a tight embrace. An embrace that caps off with a tender kiss upon the forehead. It feels wonderful and warm. 

* * *

With the late afternoon upon them, and the party drawing to a close, Boscha and Willow say their goodbyes before taking their leave. They step outside and see the sun has already begun its descent over the horizon. Lovely shades of fuchsia and orange streak across the sky. The young couple walks down the steps, hand in hand, and make their way along the dirt trail leading away from the Owl House. It doesn't take long for them to reminisce about the party. There's mention of the numerous familiar party games they had played along with new games from Luz's home. Some playfully teasing remarks about the decorum come from Boscha, only for her to be gently scolded by Willow.

“It was a lot of fun though, wasn’t it?” Willow remarks with a beaming smile. 

“Definitely, it was a real--” Boscha replies, pausing when she notices several cake crumbs on the side of her cheek. “--Oh, Willow, you have something right there. Let me get it for you.” From a pocket in her jacket, Boscha retrieves a small, cloth handkerchief embroidered with her initials.

Upon feeling her girlfriend’s hands caress her face, Willow can't keep herself from flushing a vibrant red. Likewise, feeling her girlfriend’s warm breath brush against her palm flusters Boscha a great deal. Willow glances to the left. Boscha glances to the right. There doesn’t appear to be anybody coming from either direction. It’s just the two of them on this dirt trail. Alone. Nothing to bother them. The only sounds to hear are their nervous breaths, beating hearts, and the intoxicating music of nature’s beauty serenading them.

On impulse, rather than using the handkerchief, Boscha plants a kiss upon Willow’s cheek. She licks the crumbs off instead. Boscha can still taste a hint of scaramel on her lips as she pulls away.

“ _Wh-what was that?_ ” Willow sheepishly mumbles, blushing.

“I just, uh, wanted a taste. That’s all.” Boscha stuffs her handkerchief back into her jacket pocket as she looks away, laughing nervously.

“Oh… then may _I_ have a taste as well?”

“Absolutely.”

Willow wraps her arms around Boscha’s shoulders who, in turn, wraps her arms around Willow’s waist. They pull each other close and close their eyes. Boscha feels Willow’s lips brush gently against her own. The warmth of her kiss is slowly becoming a frequent event, yet it is always the highlight of Boscha’s day. When the kiss is finally broken, their eyes meet.

“I love you,” Boscha says.

“I love you too,” Willow replies.


End file.
